


you'll be on my jockey team

by saddestboner



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: A Bare Semblance Of A Plot, Alternate Universe - No Girlfriends/No Wives, Established Relationship, Idiot manchildren, M/M, Not Beta Read, Wall Sex, ass eating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 19:08:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16310969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saddestboner/pseuds/saddestboner
Summary: José hates his life. He really and truly hates his life with every fiber of his being.





	you'll be on my jockey team

**Author's Note:**

  * For [izzetboilerworks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/izzetboilerworks/gifts).



> I feel like I should apologize for this. Mostly for the title. 
> 
> Title from "Pony," by Ginuwine.

José hates his life. He really and truly hates his life with every fiber of his being. 

For some reason, unbeknownst to him, the majority of his teammates had held a vote while he was off having a maintenance day and chose to wear special outfits for their upcoming roadtrip. Apparently it’s one of Gardy’s “team bonding” ideas. 

When José showed up at the park this morning, his costume was waiting for him, hanging up in his locker in a slick plastic garment bag.

José had lifted the plastic, taken one look at his stupid costume, and steadfastly refused to put it on. 

“Not putting that on. You knock me out first.” He crosses his arms over his chest and lifts his chin.

“Why not? We’re all doing it.” Nick plucks the glittery black vest off the hanger and holds it out to José like a peace offering. 

José whacks his hand away and the vest goes flying into his locker. “ _¡Es stupido!_ ”

Nick rolls his eyes. “Everyone’s doing it, man.” He retrieves the vest and tosses it into José’s face. 

José can’t exactly explain to Nick that that’s not the point. Normally, José would love to put on a stupid glittery vest and tight pants and prance around like a fool. José _likes_ being a fool. It’s just that the pants don’t hide anything, really, and… Well. 

“What’s the hold-up, Iggy?” James meanders over to José’s locker as he slides white cuffs onto his wrists. They look like the type the Chippendales dancers wear, and José hates himself a little bit for knowing that. 

“He thinks it’s stupid,” Nick says, leaning in and retrieving the discarded vest from the back of José’s locker. 

José lets his eyes skate down James’s bare arms to where the white cuffs are clasped around his wrists. 

“Nice farmer tan, gonna go fuck a sheep?” José spits out at James, just to be mean. 

James just smiles—a flash of annoyingly straight, annoyingly perfect white teeth—before he reaches out and pats José on the shoulder. 

José pulls his eyes away from James, focusing all his ire on Nick. “No, I’m not—”

“Iggy, put the damn costume on,” Gardy barks out as he walks by their lockers. 

José frowns after him, then turns and looks at the vest dangling from Nick’s hand. Sighing, José snags it away and pulls the garment bag off the hanger. 

“Attaboy.” Nick beams at him and jostles him in the shoulder. 

José slinks away from them for the showers, where he can change in peace. 

José slips into one of the shower stalls for some privacy, then he strips out of his workout shirt and sweats and leaves them in a puddle on the tiled floor. He picks up the glittery vest and makes a face at it before pulling it on and buttoning it up. 

The pants are just as bad, fitting him like a second skin and leaving nothing to the imagination. The knowledge that certain teammates will also be wearing these skintight pants makes José’s palms sweat. And the more he thinks about it—bare, bulging biceps and thick thighs and heavy cock—wrapped up in the vest and pants makes José’s own situation a little uncomfortable. 

He quickly averts his thoughts to less appealing mental images—Gardy in these tight pants, for instance—and finishes dressing himself. 

When José reemerges, Nick is flexing for Willy while he takes some pictures on his iPhone and Zimm is grumbling sourly at someone—Boyd, he thinks—about how ridiculous and _beneath_ him the costume is. He’s still wearing the glimmering vest and tight pants like everybody else, though.

José meanders over to James’s locker. 

“Need your help with these.” He holds up the white cuffs and offers James an innocent smile.

Unfortunately for José, James probably knows him well enough to know José doesn’t have it in him to be innocent.

“You just put them on,” James says, dryly, as he lifts his arm and snaps one of the cuffs against his wrist. 

“I mean, I need help with the cufflinks.” José huffs an impatient sigh and shakes his bare wrists at James.

James reaches out and yanks the cuffs and cufflinks away from José. When he lifts the cufflinks up to inspect them, the muscles in his arms bulge and ripple and José finds himself staring attentively. 

James turns the cufflinks in his hand and then looks at José, raising an eyebrow. “And whaddaya want me to do about this?”

José holds his wrists out, as if James is going to shackle him and haul him off to jail.

Sighing, James slides the white cuff over José’s wrist and then slips the cufflink through the button hole. After flicking his nail at the shiny cufflink, he does José’s other wrist too.

“There. Happy?” James pushes José’s arms down.

“I got something else I need help with.” José offers James another overly sweet, innocent smile.

James’s keen blue eyes narrow, the focus sharpening, zooming in on him like a hunter sighting his prey. “Oh?” 

José rakes his eyes over James’s arms and then to the v of bare skin that shows under his chin. He lets his gaze drift to James’s thighs, thick and muscular from spending hours upon hours squatting behind home plate. The nylon fabric of the pants is stretched taut, and leaves almost nothing to the imagination as far as his dick is concerned.

And José finds that _his_ dick is very concerned. 

When he finally manages to look away from James’s massive thighs—that José definitely does not imagine wrapped around his head while he fucks his throat with that big cock of his—their eyes meet.

“What seems to be the problem?” James presses on, his tone deceptively casual.

José knows he’s noticed the way he’s been ogling him though.

“Well, you see. My pants, they too tight. Need a little loosening and I think you can help me,” José says. 

James’s cheek twitches but he doesn’t break. “You should probably let the clubbies know. One of them can get you a new pair,” he says.

“Don’t want the clubbies taking my pants in,” José whines, stamping his foot at James. “You gotta be the one.”

“Well, I _suppose_.” James rolls his eyes and shakes his head before looking around quickly. He glances back at José. “Let’s go over by the hot tubs. No one’ll bother us there. Everyone’s too busy clowning on everyone else ’cause of these stupid vests.”

José nods and then he and James are power-walking out of the clubhouse and down the hall to the hot tubs.

The view from behind is even _worse_. 

The tight, black nylon pants only serve to accentuate how firm and taut James’s ass is. If he bent over, José thinks he could probably bounce quarters off of it. There are also many other things José would like to do with James’s ass that don’t involve throwing pocket change at it.

James looks over his shoulder once, twice before shoving the door open and tugging José in behind him. 

When they’re safely inside, James locks the door behind them and turns to face José. He crosses his arms over his strong chest and looks down his nose at José, almost imperiously. 

“What?” José barks, mirroring James with his arms folded across his chest.

“I thought you were the one who needed the help.” James takes a step forward, putting a hand out to catch José by the waistband of his pants. 

José holds his breath when James grabs onto him and though he knows he should put up at least a _little_ bit of a fight, he lets James tug his pants down his hips. 

He should be embarrassed he’s already hard and leaking, but, well. James runs his eyes down the length of José’s cock like he’s eyeing a tasty morsel and that vaporizes any lingering shame José might have felt. 

James lifts his eyes again, meeting José’s. “This’s what you needed help with?” he asks. 

“Yeah. Got an itch I can’t reach. You gotta scratch for me,” José says. He thinks he’s confusing his metaphors. Or maybe they’re similes, he doesn’t remember. 

James rolls his eyes. “What I wanna know is what’re you gonna do for me,” he says, ghosting his fingertips over José’s shaft. He pulls his hand back when José arches his hips up toward his touch. “How’re you gonna make this good for _me_?”

“What, sucking me off ain’t enough?” José snaps. 

“Who says I’m gonna suck you off?” 

James plants a big hand in the center of José’s chest and pushes him back against the wall. José squirms a little, scrabbling along the tiled wall, his fingernails digging into the grout. James has him effectively pinned like a butterfly in a display case, though.

“Is only fair,” José says.

James shoves his own pants down, pulling his cock out and wrapping his fist around it. He’s big and thick, and José’s mouth waters just at the sight of him. He reaches for James, but he pushes José’s hand away and pumps his fist down his shaft.

“We’re gonna do this my way,” James says.

“Which is?” José affects a pout as he runs the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip in what he hopes is an enticing manner. 

“I’m gonna ride your face,” James says. “Then I’m gonna fuck your throat.”

“And what about me? What I get outta this?” José asks, jutting out his bottom lip. 

James shakes his heavy cock in José’s direction and raises his eyebrows at him.

José rolls his eyes heavenward. “I need more.”

James laughs and wraps a hand around José’s hip, squeezing, digging his thumb into the crease of his hipbone where his thigh and pelvis meet. “I’m sure we’ll figure something out.”

“Don’t trust you,” José says, squirming a little bit against James’s big hand where it’s pinning him back against the wall.

“You shouldn’t.” James smirks and drags his hand away from José’s chest.

José approaches James almost cautiously, like he’s ready to pirouette out of the way at the slightest hint of danger. He slides his hands over James’s arms, rubbing the muscles there appreciatively. Then he moves them over James’s chest and starts unbuttoning the vest, which he pushes off of James’s shoulders.

José leans in and flicks his tongue out, licking at one of James’s nipples, swirling the tip of his tongue around it. James just looks down at the top of his head as he laves at James’s nipple before moving onto the other one. 

James rests a hand at the back of José’s head, exerting gentle pressure as José pulls his mouth away from James’s nipples and slowly kisses down his chest to his navel. The head of James’s cock brushes against his cheek but he hardly pays it any mind—even though he has to dig his nails into his palms to keep from just wrapping his mouth around the perfect flared head—as he keeps kissing a path lower and lower. 

Then José’s on his knees in front of James. He opens his eyes and looks up at James towering over him, his fingers resting lightly atop his head.

José captures James’s gaze with his own and then he leans in, pushing James’s dripping cock back against his belly to lap at his ball sack. He drags the tip of his tongue slowly down the seam, before nipping lightly at the skin there. 

James jerks his hips and hisses out a high-pitched breath, his fingers tightening briefly in José’s hair. When José backs off a little bit, James smooths down some stray curls at the back of José’s head.

José smirks a little against the inside of James’s thigh before pushing his legs apart a little more. He digs his nails into the meat of James’s thighs and sits back on his heels, staring up at him with big eyes.

“Turn around. Put your hands against the wall,” José orders, in a deceptively gentle tone.

James gives José a _look_ but he turns around as he’s told and pushes his ass out a little bit as he leans in and plants his hands on the wall. José takes in the swell of James’s ass and the backs of his thighs, before leaning in and nipping him there lightly. He leaves behind little red perforations on James’s skin. He swipes the tip of his tongue over them, feeling pleased.

James jerks away from José and glares down at him, over his shoulder. “No teeth.”

José just flutters his eyelashes innocently at James and he turns back around, digging his nails into the wall.

José reaches up and digs his nails into the firm flesh of James’s ass and he hisses a breath between his clenched teeth—he didn’t say anything about nails—before turning to glare at José some more.

“What?” José flicks his tongue out and licks lightly over red crescent moons.

James lets out a soft breath and José can feel him relaxing. He leans back in and trails his tongue in a circle over his puckered hole. The taste is strong, musky, but José doesn’t mind it. He circles his tongue again, his nails digging in deeper, spreading James apart for him a little more. James doesn’t protest this time; maybe he’s learned his lesson. Maybe he’s enjoying what José’s doing to him.

Maybe he wants more.

José tentatively presses deeper, pushing the tip of his tongue into James and wriggling it. 

(He pictures a worm dancing on a fishhook and muffles a laugh against James’s overheated skin.)

James squirms underneath José and, he thinks, presses back against his tongue just a bit. José groans softly and pushes his tongue deeper and deeper, his nails cutting into the firm flesh of James’s ass as he grips him tightly and spreads him apart. 

José works up some saliva and starts thrusting his tongue, making everything slick and messy. It drips and drips and drips, and he thinks he can hear it pattering on the carpet as it drips between James’s cheeks. 

He works faster now, stabbing at James’s slick hole with his tongue. He’s flushed all over, and slick with José’s saliva now. José feels powerful, purposeful as he thrusts his tongue into James’s ass. Like he _owns_ him, just a little bit. Just a little piece of him. 

José slips his tongue out of James’s ass and pulls his lips back against his teeth to bite at his rim. He feels James go tense and rigid underneath him for a moment, then he _jumps_ as José digs his teeth in harder. He tugs on James’s rim, spreading him wider so he can push two fingers in and lick around them. 

José pulls his mouth away from James’s ass. “How you feel, McCannazo? Good?” José teases. 

James’s blue eyes flicker as he looks down at José on his knees, his lips swollen and slick with spit. “Yeah,” he says as he reaches back, his nails scraping against José’s cheek as he tries to grab at his face and tug him back against his ass.

He doesn’t need to exert any force, though. José goes willingly, pressing his mouth over James’s hole in a filthy wet kiss, sucking and slurping on him until James’s knees are shaking and the only thing that’s keeping him upright is the stucco wall.

When James starts listing a little bit, José shoves him against the wall with a hand planted in the middle of his back. He keeps sucking and nibbling on his rim, before lifting a hand and cracking James hard on the cheek. He feels James shudder against his mouth so he does it again, then digs his nails into the warm, reddened skin. 

James is pushing back against his tongue now so José sticks it out of his mouth and just rubs it all over him, all over his swollen rim and over his goosepimpled skin. José grabs onto his ass cheeks and spreads him out even more for his greedy tongue, pressing his nails in until James hisses painfully. He feels the skin giving way under his nails and when he pulls his hand back, there are more tiny crescents. 

“You want more?” José asks, though he knows what the answer will be. “You think you can take it?”

James looks over his shoulder at José, eyes narrowing, and that’s all the answer José needs.

He dives back in, shoving his tongue back into James’s ass. James turns back around and presses his forehead against the wall. One of his hands is fisting his flushed cock, smearing glistening precome down his shaft. The other one reaches back and grabs at José’s face, trying to hold him in place.

José bats James’s hand away and squeezes back on his ass cheeks, spreading him for his tongue again. 

James is making these noises now, these little breathless moans and gasps, as José keeps stabbing at his hole with his tongue. After a moment, José buries three of his fingers in James and starts peppering the curve of his ass with sharp nips. 

When James clenches around his fingers José has to pause for a moment, resting his mouth against James’s damp skin. 

After a few minutes of silence—broken up only by their panting breaths—James snaps, irritably: “Why’d you stop?”

José says nothing, just teases his pinky finger against James’s rim before wriggling it in alongside the others. 

“Oh.” James catches a breath behind his teeth. 

“Mhm.” José smirks to himself as he rubs his thumb around James’s over-stuffed rim now.

“José,” James says, warningly. “It’s too much.”

“You don’t think you can take just one more?” José teases in an overly sweet tone, though he’s not really married to the idea. “My hand no that big.”

“Shut up,” James grumbles. 

José cackles and folds his thumb in against his palm. He gives James a deep, hard thrust that pushes the air out of his lungs, just for good measure. “You no fun, McCannon.” 

“You’re still here, ain’t you?” James pushes back against José’s fingers.

“Always in a hurry, this one,” José chirps, driving his fingers deeper. He leans forward and lets some saliva dribble between James’s cheeks to ease the slide of his fingers. 

José works quietly, his tongue caught between his teeth. Everything is so wet and messy and _loud_ , and it’s going right to José’s dick. He wishes he could throw James down on the tiled floor and fuck him for hours—fuck him until James’s going out of his mind with ecstasy—but they just don’t have the time for it. This’ll have to do for now.

James’s fingers catch in José’s hair after a bit and he stills the movements of his hand, flicking his eyes up at James’s face. He’s flushed red all over, from the tips of his ears to the apples of his cheeks straight on down to his cock. He’s so red José half-expects his skin to scald José when he touches him. 

“What?” José asks.

“I wanna come in your mouth,” James grunts, putting his fake Southern accent back on like a costume, trying to sound gruffer and twangier than he usually does.

José just rolls his eyes. “And I wanna win the lottery. No happened yet.” 

“You saying you don’t want my big, thick cock in your—”

“You no that big,” José lies, kneading at James’s ass.

James actually _is_ that big. Definitely the biggest José’s ever had, but he’d never let James know that. Can’t have James getting a big—so to speak—head. He’s gotta knock him down to size every now and then. 

“You’re full of shit,” James says. He reaches out and traces over José’s wet, swollen bottom lip before pushing his thumb into his mouth.

José reaches up, sliding his hands over James’s hips and shoving him back against the wall. James doesn’t even put up a fight, he just lets José shove him back. José dives back in, wrapping his around the head of his cock and sucking him down. 

José’s not one for finesse. He knows what he likes and what he wants and he’s going to take it, provided everyone is on the same page. James practically goes slack and pliant underneath him, as he leans back against the wall.

José pops off of his cock and grips him around the base, tapping the head against his bottom lip as he flicks his eyes back up to James’s face again. His eyes are slitted and his lips are parted as he breathes heavily. 

“You no wanna fuck me? You rather use my mouth?” José asks, hiking an eyebrow and feigning innocence. 

James groans and lets his head thump against the wall. “God, I hate you.”

José just laughs and leans back in, taking James’s cock into his mouth. He works him deeper down his throat and swallows around him, the tip of his nose brushing in James’s pubic hair. 

The first time they did this together, José was surprised to find James didn’t shave himself like he’d expected. 

( _“Is a thing you white boys like to do, I thought.”_

 _“Fuck off, José.”_ )

Then James had pinned him down in bed and sucked his cock, which he hadn’t been expecting either.

He’s found that James is full of surprises. 

“You don’t hate me,” José teases him as he slides his hands over James’s strong, muscular thighs. 

The look James gives José at that makes his blood boil. He stoops down and catches José under the armpits, hoisting him up to his feet. 

“Put your hands against the wall and bend over,” James orders him, letting him go. 

Part of José wants to tease him, make him mad enough to push him down but he wants what James wants more than he wants to be difficult. José locks eyes with James as he leans in and presses his hands against the wall, pushing his ass out. James runs an appreciative palm over him before squeezing and slapping one of his cheeks. 

José feels his fingers tease his crack, spreading him open a little bit. A fingertip pushes against José’s hole almost experimentally, as if they’ve never done this before. (Which they have.)

The crinkling of a condom wrapper sends anticipation burning through José’s veins.

James slides in behind him and grips him by the hips, tugging him back until he can slide his cock between José’s cheeks. He rocks his hips forward but he doesn’t move to push into José just yet.

“You gonna go or no?” José complains, wriggling back against James’s cock impatiently. 

“Hold onto your horses.” James eases his hips forward and guides the head of his cock against José’s hole before pushing in shallowly. 

After a few long, mostly quiet moments, he stops. José is panting hard, these loud gasping breaths that whistle through his gritted teeth. James rubs his hand in the small of José’s back.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, is fine,” José mutters, dipping his head, his shoulders heaving. “Is just a lot.”

James pushes in inch by inch. “Thought you liked that about me.”

“Didn’t mean _you_ ,” José scoffs. “Be careful your head don’t get too big. And I mean the one on your shoulders, not—”

James shuts him up with a sharp snap of his hips, burying himself to the hilt in José’s ass in one fluid movement. 

José digs his fingers into the grout and breathes through his nose, hard. He can feel James chuckling behind him. And inside him. 

He hates James. 

He really and truly hates him.

Even so, José pushes his hips back against him. 

“So impatient,” comes the scolding reply. 

José hisses through his teeth.

He feels James’s laughter vibrating through his body, against him, his cock jerking inside him. It’s weird. He doesn’t like it, he thinks.

José’s about to buck back against James and just take what he wants, but James can either read his mind or senses he’s getting impatient so he starts moving again. He pulls out of José almost completely, then thrusts back in. Slow, always so slow, letting José savor the friction and the slide of his cock. And driving him insane with wanting, which is probably the point.

José lets out a long sigh and presses his forehead against the wall, as his nerves sing in relief. 

They’re both slippery with sweat now and James’s hands slide on his skin before digging in, nails sharp and stinging. José savors that too, the bite of his nails, the way they catch on José’s fevered skin. 

“Good?” James murmurs in question, tightening his grip on José’s hips and jerking him back. 

José lets out a puff of breath, a surprised _oof_. “Is okay.”

“Only okay?” James grunts.

“Could be better,” José breathes out. 

“Mhm.” James sounds skeptical. 

Sometimes José doesn’t know why he likes him so much—actually, he _doesn’t_ like him. This is just sex. This is just the two of them scratching some primal itch no one else can quite reach. And it’s fine. José could probably find bigger or better if he felt like it, but it’s convenient. James is convenient. 

Actually, that’s kind of a lie. James is a pain in the ass, and José normally wouldn’t—

His thoughts skitter away when he realizes James has gone still inside him again.

“What,” José mutters, wriggling back against him.

“You’re doin’ that thing,” James complains, mildly, resting his hands lightly over José’s hips.

“What thing?” José asks.

“Thinking.” James makes it sound like José’s personally offended him somehow.

“I no think,” José protests, pressing his palms against the wall and pushing back slowly just to see. Maybe James will be generous and let José just _take_ what he wants. 

James presses José back against the wall, pinning his aching cock between the stucco and José’s waist. 

Yeah, he hates him right now. 

“You know, for someone who puts on a big show about hating this and hating me,” James says, sounding almost amused as he starts sliding his cock in and out of José slowly. 

José waits, but he doesn’t finish the thought.

“What?” José prompts. 

James leans in until José feels his breath hot against the shell of his ear as he fucks him. “I think you like me.”

José wants to protest—even opens his mouth to tell James to fuck off—but James slides his tongue into José’s mouth and claims him with a hot, possessive kiss. 

José swallows his protests. 

Maybe James has a point. Maybe he does like him. But only sometimes. 

One of James’s big, warm hands wraps around José’s cock and starts sliding up and down his length, moving in time to the—increasingly erratic—thrusts of his cock. James is close to the end of his rope and José is too.

He wonders if they’ll come together. They’ve never managed it before, usually José comes first and then he lets James jizz on his face. 

James leans in and presses his forehead against José’s shoulder, his hands going tight on his hips. José can feel his shuddery breaths puffing against his skin, and the stutter-stop movement of his hips as he tries to hold off. 

“Is okay,” José murmurs. “You can let go.”

“But…” James trails off, his tone going all _soft_. 

José squirms a little, feeling the softness like an itch between his shoulder blades he can’t scratch. “Sometimes it happens,” José says, with a laugh. “We make it work.”

“Yeah, we do,” James mumbles in agreement. 

He tugs José’s hips back, until he’s nearly seated in his lap, then slides his hands over José’s where they’re starfished on the wall. And then he does let go, teeth catching on José’s shoulder as he slams into him over and over. 

José loses himself in it, content to let James use his body, the cool stucco wall the only thing holding him up at this point. 

James goes still over him, pressing into his back, and José can _feel_ James inside him. He can feel the pulse of his cock as he fills the condom. He can feel James’s hand groping, fingers sliding down the length of his shaft clumsily, in an attempt to get him off. That won’t work though, with his movements all jerky and erratic, so José laces their fingers together and steadies James’s hand.

It doesn’t take much—embarrassingly enough—just a few more strokes before José is shaking against the wall, with James still pressed against his back. 

José’s quiet for a bit, his forehead pressed into the cool wall as he tries to get his bearings back. James is quiet too, but for his breathing, which resembles car exhaust. 

Finally, James peels himself off of José’s back.

“Should probably shower,” James mutters.

José straightens himself up and tugs his pants up. “Probably,” he agrees. “But no time.”

James grimaces. José grimaces too, thinking of sitting on the plane in the stupid vest and tight pants, stewing in his own sweat and other bodily fluids.

James buttons his vest up and then comes over to help José with his cuffs. “Nobody’ll notice,” he says.

“Probably not.” José finishes buttoning up his vest and opens the door, guiding James through.

A few minutes later, they board the plane and take seats near the back. If they get odd looks from their teammates, neither José nor James notices.

As the plane rocks into its takeoff, José drops his head onto James’s strong, sturdy shoulder and closes his eyes. José feels James shifting beside him before he curls his arm around his shoulders.

Sometimes, José really likes his life.

**Author's Note:**

> The author of this piece intends no insult, slander, or copyright infringement, and is not profiting from this work. This story is a complete work of fiction and does not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. This is for entertainment purposes only. **If you found this story while Googling your name or the names of your friends, hit the back button now.**


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